Squeezed in the middle of the sold out crowd for my favorite band, I knew if one of us were to move we’d all go down like dominoes. The smell of booze reeked throughout the room along with its companion found at any rock concert, marijuana. This didn’t bother me, and, for once, intoxicated and drugged fans provided a lovely scenery. Nothing could ruin my enthusiasm for the night ahead.

Tonight, Citizen would kick off the second date of the “Juturna Ten Year Anniversary Tour” in celebration of the Post-Hardcore/Alternative Rock band Circa Survive’s first album, “Juturna.” The five guys who comprised Citizen (Mat Kerekes, Jake Duhaime, Ryland Oehlers, Eric Hamm and Nick Hamm) were in second grade when this album dropped, and some hadn’t even heard of Circa Survive.

Citizen opened with “Cement,” the first single off their sophomore album, “Everybody Is Going To Heaven.” A steady drum beat and low bass elements accompanied lead vocalist Mat Kerekes, whose hushed words broadcasted a whisper effect: “If I’m, if I’m flawed, then you’re perfect, my only. If I’m, if I’m a liar, then you’re blameless, my only. If I’m, if I’m hanging by a thread, then you’re infinite. If I’m a saint, then you’re heaven, my only.” And with a drum roll on the snare, the song blasted into its chorus. Kerekes bellowed, “Cement for all of our teeth. I’ll give you myself any day.” I wondered what it would be like sitting behind that kit on stage, playing for people who came to hear my music?

I asked Jake Duhaime, Citizen’s drummer. “Honestly, I don’t like playing the drums. They’re expensive. They bring me a lot of grief. I feel like I have to spend twice the amount of energy as everyone around me. It’s stressful,” Jake said. “But, I have a profound love for them all the same. Everything I know is because of drumming in some form or another.” My drum teacher, Wade, gave me the most interesting response about drumming: “I’m a 45-year-old kid, and I hit things for a living. It’s fun!”

As I watched Citizen, the familiar drumbeat to their song “Stain” rose above the din, a heavy kick drumbeat proceeded by an eerie guitar rift. Kerekes delivered harshed vocals, an assortment of strained and painful screams. The song’s hook, similar to Cement’s consistent drumbeat, featured a powerful drum roll from the snare that called attention to the chorus. “Let your garden grow, my eyes still twitch for nothing. Loosen your empty hands, my heart still beats for nothing.”

Jake noted this as his favorite song to play live. “It’s no bullshit,” Jake said. “It’s heavy. It’s aggressive. It’s hypnotic. I feel like I am proving something whenever we are plowing through that song.” I understood Jake’s passion, also being able to play “Stain” on my own kit. “Stain” was different from any other song Citizen had previously released, a powerhouse in their set list when performing.

Jake wasn’t Citizen’s first drummer, so how did he join? “I actually met Nick, Citizen’s guitarist, when they asked my other band, Freedom, to play the ‘Youth’ record release show for them. We had a very pleasant/brief encounter that I guess stuck with him. I didn’t meet the rest [of the band] until right around my first practice,” Jake said. “They seemed like nice guys, and that’s all I really cared about.”

Jake’s been playing the drums for 15 years, and, at the moment, he’s involved in about half-a-dozen projects that range from “casual to serious.”

“You always have to be creating. It shouldn’t be like a job, you want to be doing as much as you can,” Jake said. When I asked Wade how many musical projects he’d been involved with, he said he had been professionally playing since he was 13. Right now, he considered himself a “drum for hire,” playing for any gig that’s in need of a good drummer.

I watched Citizen finish up their set with “The Summer,” an angst-filled song that depicts someone who desperately tries to escape from somebody else’s manipulative ways and painful presence—but can’t. Its second verse sets the scene: “You said you’d stay, and you promised. I finally see you out. Why’d you wait for the summer to chew and spit me out? I sit awake and wait patiently. The same mistakes are waiting to be made. And I felt something that is in me change, when I followed you down.” Rx Bandits took the stage next, bringing an entirely new sound to the room, a groovy sound, compelling everybody to have fun time before the legendary Circa Survive were welcomed to the stage. Circa Survive originated in the suburbs of Doylestown, Pa., the prime band of the post-hardcore/alternative rock scene. Anthony Green, lead vocalist, possessed a unique and high-pitched tenor that sounded like silk run through a blender. I didn’t think he could pull it off live, but I was wrong—he totally blew me away while performing Juturna.

What was Jake’s favorite tour? “I’ve been lucky enough to be part of really special tours. Anytime I make new friends, that’s what’s most important to me,” Jake said. “I can’t pick a favorite. Polar Bear Club, Fireworks, Turnstile, Praise, Modern Baseball, Unified Right, Backtrack, Circa Survive are [just] a very small fraction of incredible people I’ve been able to get close with through music.”

In Lemoyne, a small venue called “The Champ” features alternative rock bands open for all ages. Bands such as Hawthorne Heights, Ice Nine Kills and Hotel Books have played there in the past. I asked Jake about the music scene in Bay City, Mich., his hometown. He explained bands would hit his general area every-so-often, and it was always a blast. “Places like the Magic Stick and Refuge Skate Shop have always been there for me.”

The five guys that comprise of Citizen are “straight edge,” which pertains to somebody who refrains from drinking, drugs and, in some cases, sexual encounters with more than partner, or even eating meat. Aside from Citizen, Jake plays in the straight edge hardcore band, “Freedom,” so I dug a bit deeper into his personal life and asked how this subculture has affected him.

“It means everything to me,” Jake said. “It’s been in my life for so long that I don’t really think of it as an outside influence, it’s just my life. A ‘counter-culture’ idea is what trains you to be comfortable with yourself.”

Did being in Citizen or Freedom personally change you as a person? “I’d like to think that anything I do influences me. You learn a lot doing something truly arcane as being in a touring band. Perhaps a bit corny. But it’s true,” Jake said.

It’d be hard to pick a favorite Citizen track, but I do lean towards “Stain,” “Cicuta,” “Drawn Out” and “Untitled.” When I asked Jake whether he has favorite tracks or any personal ties with his music, I received an interesting answer.

“My favorite tracks jump around depending on what mood I’m in,” Jake said. “More often than not, I find myself magnetized with the closing track of ‘Everybody Is Going To Heaven,’ ‘Ring Of Chain.’ Creating ‘Everybody Is Going To Heaven’ was a liberating and creative experience. I have personal ties with all of them.” He didn’t enjoy Citizen’s older material. According to him, they were 15 when they wrote it, and, much like themselves, it lacked any real identity. His favorite tracks from their first, full-length record, “Youth,” were “Speaking With A Ghost” and “Figure You Out.”

There hasn’t been a single night within the past year I haven’t fallen asleep listening to the thrilling and beautiful sounds that create the album “Youth.” I thought about a proper question to conclude my interview with Jake, so I asked: What’s the best part about playing in Citizen and Freedom?

“The people. That’s why I do it,” Jake said. “You are defined by who you surround yourself with and I couldn’t be more proud of that.”

Patrick Schmitt is a freshman at Capital Area School for the Arts Charter School (CASA).

When most people picture heaven, they picture clouds and sunlight. Inhabiting heaven, they think, are little golden men in white robes. Some have died on earth, and some have yet to exist on earth. God exists, too. I’m the first one to tell you He’s not a little magic man in the sky. He’s very real, and he’s my worst enemy.

I used to be His right hand man, but that was before we started pushing each other away. It all started on a Thursday, I think. We were sitting in one of the offices of the castle (yes, there are castles in the sky), the biggest one on top of the hill. It was a castle fit for a king—well, a king and all His archangels. I called Him in for a talk because I possessed enough power to do that back then. He trusted all of us equally, but Lucifer the Archangel, His favorite, was loved the most.

“So, um… I overheard a conversation between Raphael and Uriel the other day. They were talking about this plan you had. A plan to go down to earth? As a mortal?”

He tilted his head back and laughed. It sounded like a melody. I always enjoyed that sound, except for just then, mostly because I was upset. I didn’t mind worshipping Him, but I did mind worshipping one of the humans. Why should I bow down, give my praises to someone below me? A boss doesn’t look to their worker; a teacher doesn’t look to their student. Why should an angel—an archangel, no less—look to a human for anything?

“Yes, Lucifer,” He said. “That is my plan. For it will be written: ‘Behold, the virgin shall be with child and bear a son, and they shall call him Emmanuel.’”

“I don’t understand,” I replied. “It will be you? You will be the son? You will become incarnate, human?”

He nodded slowly, and I suddenly understood. He would be God, the father, and he would become God, the son. And I, Lucifer, would have to worship them both.

“How shall I worship you? As an archangel, I mean. You’ll be mortal?”

“I would advise you not to let your pride get the best of you.” I sensed a hint of irritation in his voice. “You may go.”

I slowly rose from my chair and walked out of the office and up to my sanctuary. I needed a plan of attack. I wasn’t going to worship a mortal. I was going to worship a God.

So, I began to talk. I talked to those I sat with at meals, like Alastor and Amaymon, and I chatted with Eligos when I saw him around. The conversations always sounded the same. They started with “Have you heard?” and ended with “I can’t believe it.”

It took only a few days to gather enough of a following, march right up to God’s office and confront Him with my band of angels.

“I have already stated my case with You,” I said. “Now I have some back up.”

“Lucifer, Lucifer,” he said, shaking his head. “This is disobedience of my plan for you, for the world. No plan of your own can change it. Now go.”

We shook our heads and left. As we were leaving, I passed Michael standing in the doorway, frowning. He couldn’t wait for his time to shine, a time that should have been mine.

A week passed without much incident, but it wasn’t long before I had heard of this virgin. Her name was Mary, and my fellow angel Gabriel had just gone down to earth to ask her to bear a child. Not just any child, but a child I would have to worship.

God called me in later that day and told me what had happened.

“I know,” I said. “I heard it from Gabriel himself. I’m just wondering how an infant is so above me that I should have to worship him?”

“The infant is me, Lucifer. We are one, the two of us.”

“This is just a lot to wrap my head around,” I said. “I have a lot of questions. How can you procreate if you’ve never been on earth? Is the child a demi-god? The woman, she is a virgin, is she not?”

“It is a part of the plan, Lucifer. You don’t have to understand. All the answers will come in due time.” He dismissed me, and I went to find a quiet spot in the clouds to think. It irritated me to think I wouldn’t get the answers I knew he had and I needed.

Just like that, I hatched a plan, and no one was going to get in the way of my determination to denounce this child.

Nine months later, Mary, the virgin, was on her way to Bethlehem with her husband Joseph. Preparations buzzed throughout heaven, and everyone watched with anticipation as the raggedy couple rode to the inn to get to the manger, where Jesus (that’s what God said he’d call the child) would be born. Everyone but me celebrated; I was preparing my plan.

As she was getting ready to bear her child, I transformed myself into a dragon. I was much uglier than I wanted to look. I had seven heads, adorned with seven crowns. I would be king of this child, the child I planned to devour.

As for the husband? I didn’t waste my time worrying about that mortal fool.

I crept behind the manger, where the woman couldn’t see me. When the child was nearly born, I positioned myself in front of her, hissing at the woman. No longer would I have to bow down to this child, this child that was supposedly my Lord.

Michael arrived in a flash of golden light. Golden light flashed before my eyes, and I felt a shooting pain in my back. I tried to hide my pain, but I couldn’t ignore the searing heat that coursed through my body.

That was the moment I realized I was evil. I disintegrated into a flash of golden light and darkness took over.

I awoke in a barren wasteland, filled with trash. A rancid smell invaded my nose, and, as I began to look around, I saw my fallen comrades next to me, no longer bathed in light. They appeared dark. I saw familiar faces: Amaymon, Eligos, Alastor, among others, all my friends, the ones who stood beside me. I sensed none of God’s presence.

“Gather ‘round!” I yelled, my voice echoing. I could definitely get used to this. The rest of the angels (or demons, I decided to call them) circled around me.

“We were sent here by an unforgiving God, so we, too, shall be unforgiving. We will make miserable the lives of all his creatures, and all his followers—we shall match him, until one day, I will rule the earth!” The demons laughed, and I knew they agreed. A God who loved them would not send them here by their own free will, would he?

I thought back to what he had told me: My free will would have consequences, and this was the final consequence. I was separated from a loving God, from all love that I had ever known. We were enemies now—Him vs. me. I saw eternity all at once. I saw myself as a snake in the garden, people dying at the hands of their fellow humans, mortals succumbing to my influence to destroy everything God had created. The worst part? I loved it. I lusted for watching so much of the Lord’s handiwork destroyed, and I wouldn’t be finished until it was annihilated.

I leaned back and sighed, inviting my demons to do the same.

“Rest up, my demons. This will be our last moment of rest before an eternity-long tussle we are going to win.”

Marirose Monaghan is a freshman at Capital Area School for the Arts Charter School (CASA).

I’m six hours deep into a late night shift at Giant, working the register, when an old lady approached me. “What’s this coupon good for, sir?” she said, eyes signaling her pure sincerity and curiosity. She handed me a small slip of paper, and I looked it over multiple times, confused. It’s a picture of a bird. “That’s just a picture of a bird, ma’am.” I told her. She thanked me, took her picture, and walked away.

I work at Giant Food Stores, a titan in the food store industry. Founded in 1953 by David Javitch, the store was originally a two-man run butcher shop. Giant, a grocery super store, carrying any food product you want. Some stores even have pharmacies, restaurants and a Starbucks to pick up some coffee before you shop. In addition to that, several services have been added. You can drop your kids off in the Treehouse daycare session, and we’ll watch your kids while you shop. Or don’t. Stay home, because now, with our new Peapod service, you don’t even have to come in! We’ll deliver the groceries straight to you. We’ve certainly come a long way from a butcher shop. Today, there are more than 180 stores.

I’ve worked at Giant for two years now, and I’ve found cashiering a much more difficult job than most people would believe it to be. I can still hear my dad telling me on the drive over to my first day of work, “It’s not gonna be that hard, bud. You’re just taking stuff and sliding it through the scanner,” a mentality I’d imagine most Giant shoppers share with my father. If cashiers run into any kind of technical issue on the machine, they’re immediately met with eye rolls and deep sighs to make you aware of the customer’s frustration.

I am always stationed to work in the section of Giant referred to as “the front end.” Our main job is to check out your items and make sure you leave the store happy. Managers stress constantly we’re the last impression the customer receives when they shop here, so we have to make that interaction with every person count. We have to make them want to return and shop again. There are multiple jobs available on the front end, the simplest being a bagger. Put the customer’s items in bags and tell them to have a nice day. Next is a cashier, ringing up the customer’s items and a self-checkout worker, who watches over customers to see if they check out their items correctly.

I once talked with a customer about working as a cashier. “I used to be a cashier too, but I had to quit,” she told me. After asking why, she explained she couldn’t “handle the rudeness of the customers.” She continued, “I’ve had keys thrown at me, I’ve been screamed at, I just couldn’t handle the stress people put me under.”

What most people aren’t aware of is how focused the cashier has to be at all times. A lot of cashiers operate on a system known as IPM—Items Scanned per Minute—where you’re judged on how fast you can scan items, so there’s always incentive to be nimble. It’s also good to be cautious of the candy bars in front of your lane; it’s highly likely someone will try to steal some candy. Hundreds of numbers for produce items must be memorized, as those items don’t scan. Each piece of produce comes with a specific PLU (price lookup) number that cashiers punch in. You can’t forget B.O.B either (bottom of the basket) to check for additional items a customer might have accidentally (or intentionally) forgotten to take from their cart.

Three months ago, I worked the checkout station. Out of nowhere, my computer just freaked out on me and shut off. This is the computer I needed to help any customers in trouble. The lane was packed, too. All six stations were filled with people, and immediately two of them needed help. I tried to rush over and help them, but there’s really not much I could do with my computer acting so wacky. All around me, I heard the people complaining and muttering to themselves as if I’m some kind of idiot who can’t do his job right. “C’mon!” a man shouted, signaling me away from the customer I’m helping to tend to him. A woman coughed multiple times to get my attention, but I remained helping the customer I helped first. “Deal with them one at a time, that’s the best way” is my manager’s advice in this situation, so I did. Eventually the computer switched back on, and it was business as usual.

“Yeah, PLUs and codes and stuff like that are annoying, but for me, it’s always the people that make me hate working retail,” commented Jake, an 18-year-old nearing one year of employment in Wal-Mart. “Sometimes, I feel like Charlie Brown, man. I’m doing all I can in there to be a good and polite guy, trying my best and all that; but it feels like everyone still hates me. No matter what I do, those people are always gonna move that football from me, man. Always.”

I worked a shift last week when a man approached with many boxes of cereal. I rang them up. “That’ll be—,” I managed to say, before being cut off. “No! These are buy one, get one free!” He scolds. I looked at the screen, totaled the order, and looked back to him. “Well, they’re not ringing up that way, sir. Let me get a coach for you.” He looked around, furious. “No! These are buy one, get one free!” he said, somehow even more firm than the last time. At this point, I’m rapidly hitting the button to call a checkout coach, Ashley, over to help me out. She strolled over and assessed the situation. “Yo, he’s saying these are buy one, get one, and they’re not ringing up that way,” I explained. “Yes! Buy one, get one!” the man explained, much louder. Ashley bolted to the aisle and checked the price, proving the man to be correct. She ran back, took the price off, and apologized for the wait. The man happily went about his day, the proud owner of what must have been at least 30 boxes of cereal.

Cashiers at my level would love to do what Ashley had just done, but, sometimes, due to lockout codes on registers, it is not within our possibility to do so. Cashiers aren’t allowed to simply take someone’s word on BOGO deals. Often, customers will pull tricks like that on cashiers to save a quick buck, handing you coupons for items they didn’t purchase in hopes you’ll just trust them, rather than search through their packed cart for the item. Or labeling produce with a smaller weight, then adding more produce in a bag, keeping the label for the smaller weight. Those moves alone cost the company immense shrink. So, if we also had to trust the word of people who tell us the prices they saw, we’d be in trouble.

“What I wish people would understand is that I feel bad for you too, man. I’m not a robot; I get how much this situation sucks. I don’t like being stuck here with you either, but this technical problem is bigger than both of us,” explained Jake.

Cashiers and retail workers are people too. When we’re having trouble and you get upset, we get that, we feel you, we understand you, but sometimes it would be nice to have some of that come back our way. Maybe every once in a while, if you see a cashier stressing out, or running into some technical difficulty, you could just relax and let that person have a second to figure things out. I know it’s frustrating as the customer to have to wait a couple of extra seconds so the cashier can replace the paper that ran out halfway through printing your receipt, or they have to call a coach over to verify the price on something. I can also assure you, if you’re cool in that situation, the cashier will love you. Most stories cashiers share with one another don’t involve the countless jerks who screamed at them about melons, but rather the one really nice person they met who was courteous to them when they ran into problems, and what a refreshing experience it was to meet them.

Clifford Kubiak is a senior at Capital Area School for the Arts Charter School (CASA).